We ride our trusty bicycles most weekends. This blog charts our adventures and records our thoughts as we ride through the rural lanes of Surrey and Northern Kent – and there's some world travel thrown in too

Saturday, 1 October 2016

Despite the fact that it's now October, the weather still held out. There were clear skies and, as Andy pointed out as we rode along the 269, it wasn't cold.

We were heading for the Tatsfield Village – to seek cover if needed against the rain – but there was no sign of it. Overnight it had been raining and the roads were wet, but it was a pleasant morning and all was fine until we reached the village.

Our bikes just outside Tatsfield village last week...

It all went wrong when I decided to pull my usual stunt and take a wide angled turn towards the bus stop. No cars were coming, all was clear, I made the turn left and then wump! I was down (and almost out). There's nothing worse that coming off a bike. It hits you suddenly and then there you are, on the tarmac and in my case not in a good way. I heard Andy ask if I was alright and eventually I said yes I was, but the truth of the matter was that I'd cut my hands and left wrist, did some major damage to my left knee, which is very stiff as I write this and I found that the shock of the whole thing meant I simply sat in the road trying to get my act together.

People came to my aid, which was good. Andy picked up the bike and my phone and I just sat there on the road trying to pluck up the courage to move. Once the initial shock waned, I did get up and thanks to the chef of a restaurant in Tatsfield called The Bakery who came out and helped me to my feet, I began to feel a little better – but just a little bit. I hobbled, with the chef's assistance, towards the open door of the restaurant, my right hand cut in two places, my left wrist grazed and my left knee in a bit of a state. I rinsed my hands under a tap in the the restaurant's bathroom and then took a seat in the main restaurant. The chef brought me a black coffee and I remained sitting there for some time, trying to get back into some kind of zone.

The chef brought out a first aid kit and bandaged up the hand wounds and I decided not to look at my left knee until I reached home. There were two customers in the restaurant drinking coffee and looking forward to some breakfast and we briefly chatted.

"You come far?"
"South Croydon, about a 15-mile round trip," I said.

Everyone was really kind. After my coffee I bid them all farewell and thanked them for their help and went to join Andy who was outside with the bikes. I limped over to the bus stop and we had our tea and BelVita biscuits, but I was still in a state of shock when a white cab (a white 'black cab') turned up complete with white ribbons on the front; it was to be part of a wedding that was due to take place today in, of all places, Walthamstow.

I wasn't looking forward to the ride home, but I knew there were no train stations in the area and even if there had been I didn't have money or cards with me. There was only one option: ride home. Once I got started it wasn't too bad. I could still pedal like normal so I'm hoping there's not lasting damage to the left knee. I made slow progress along Approach Road where Andy told me earlier that Beaver Water World was being evicted from it's Tatsfield location. Sad news, but I was pre-occupied with my general state of health to worry too much about Beaver Water World.

We turned right on to Clarks Lane and continued towards Botley Hill and later, when we reached the off-road bit, I decided it would be safer than remaining on the roads like I normally do. Progress was slow, but not as slow as I thought it would be, but I wasn't in a good way and I couldn't wait to reach home.

No caption needed...

We went back on the road at Warlingham Sainsbury's and rode to the green where we parted company with a view to riding again tomorrow, although I'm not so sure.

After getting over the shock with a mug of tea I eventually took a shower and felt a little better. I've been bending my knee a little bit in the hope that it'll be less stiff, but it doesn't feel at all good. I don't think I've broken it; the fact that I can still ride the bike is something and I'm not in pain unless I move the leg in certain ways.

I made myself something to eat – I'm the only one here – and then watched an uplifting programme on iPlayer about the band Oasis, followed by a bit of Mock the Week, which is losing it a bit if the truth be known. And now, of course, I'm writing this blogpost, sitting in an armchair, the television off and the house silent bar the sound of my fingers tapping the keyboard of my lap top.

I've started to worry about the bike and whether it's right for me, or whether I should have bought another mountain bike.

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